


watercolour coffee rings

by Itch



Series: Sylvix Week 2019 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Soulmate AU, Strippers, Sylvixweek2019, barista! felix, coffee shop AU, felix has a cat, its not a lot dw, roofie mention, soul mark au, stripper! felix eventually, stripper! sylvain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 07:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itch/pseuds/Itch
Summary: Felix Hugo Fraldarius served coffee for a living, and didn't exactly enjoy it. His only light was sometimes a really cute customer came in, flirting with him, ordering gross drinks with stupid names just to garner Felix's attention. The one day Felix decides to actually give him the attention he craved, his life changes forever.





	1. grind so fine like a coffee bean

_ Coffee is a way of stealing time which should, by rights, belong to your older self – Terry Pratchett  _

Felix huffed, tipping the brim of his cap back up away from his eyeline. It was pouring rain outside, meaning that more people would be coming in, hoping the weather would turn fair again before they could finish their journey. Whilst the business was good for their little shop, it also meant he had been run off of his feet, pushing him past his lunch break, and now he was both exhausted and hungry. Which made him grumpy. Glenn would say he was always grumpy though, if he complained, and would tap the bill of the cap he wore. Speaking of the bill, he also hated the new uniform Glenn demanded he wear, teal aprons and baseball caps embroidered with the 'family crest' – who has a family crest these days? Felix wasn't one to argue with Glenn (mostly because he'd tried many times, and literally never won) so he just went with it. He thought it was dumb, but whatever. His wage paid his rent and then some, and losing his job over an argument about teal aprons just was not worth it. He turned to the sink, filling it with water and starting to scrub at the pile of dirty mugs to make sure they were clean and ready for the next onslaught of customers needing their coffees in all manner of stupid custom ways -- although the next person to try and entertain him with a rant about how they must be the ‘only person who just drinks black coffee nowadays, no Frapadapachino for me’ would up being covered in said coffee. The bell above the door tinkled and he placed the cups on the drying rack, spinning round to face the customer with his fake service industry smile on his face.

“Welcome to Fraldari- oh, it's you.” The smile dropped as quickly as he had put it on when he recognised who was now leaning on the counter that Felix had  _ just  _ polished. It was a regular customer who came in nearly every day: tall, handsome, and a flirt. Sylvain winked at Felix and leant on the counter with both elbows, a lollipop stick poking out from the corner of his mouth. 

“Is that any way to speak to your favourite customer?” Sylvain drawled, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth with a soft pop, winking at Felix. He hated to admit he enjoyed toying with Felix, but he did love doing it. Felix was just so handsome in a flea-ridden way, and Sylvain wanted to do all sorts of things to him, and with him. Namely, feed him a hearty meal, run him a bath, wash his hair, and tuck him up in bed. Maybe he could be in that very same bed with him. Scratch that, he would  _ definitely _ be in the bed with him. Felix smirked, gesturing to the menu on the board behind him. 

“Pick your poison. And knowing you it'll be so full of sugar it might as well be poison.” Sylvain feigned hurt, but Felix was right. He did like his coffee's as sweet as they could get. 

“Hmm...” he pulled an exaggerated thinking face before slapping the counter. “You pick for me. Make something up. I trust you.” Felix raised an eyebrow and smirked at him, reaching under the counter for a larger mug than those drying behind him. He had a plan for just the thing. 

By the time Felix was ready with Sylvain's drink, Glenn had come out of the office from doing the account and donned an apron himself, ordering Felix in no uncertain words to take a break and have something to eat before he shoved a muffin down his throat himself. Sylvain took that moment to link his elbow with Felix's and drag him to a table in the corner, pushing Felix down onto the soft chair against the wall as he took the other one on the opposite side. 

“This is a sublime drink y'know Felix, what sort of magic did you put in it?” Sylvain asked after having yet another gentle sip of the coffee, froth sitting on his top lip. Felix rolled his eyes and reached over, wiping it off with his thumb. Sylvain was taken aback at the gesture. It was something he would have considered pretty intimate, but Felix did it as naturally as if it were breathing. 

“Hazelnut syrup, and I didn't let you put 5 sugars in it. What you can taste that is so good is the actual coffee.” Sylvain flushed pink at the light scolding from Felix but pushed it to the back of his mind. He never usually got a chance like this, to actually speak to Felix as a person, as a friend dare he say, rather than just a customer and waiter. 

“Well I daresay it'll be my new regular drink.”

“I'll remember that next time you try and order than mint and orange mess you tried to tell me was 'delicious' even though I saw in your face that you didn't like it.” Sylvain spluttered.

“Excuse me, the mint and orange hot chocolate is delicious, I just burnt my tongue.” Felix rolled his eyes, popping some blueberry muffin in his mouth.

“Sure.” He took his cap off, untying the ponytail that had been nagging him all day and ruffled his hair so it fell over his shoulders, the headache that had been creeping up on him lessening finally. Having his hair tied back was in important behind the counter - food hygiene and all that - but it didn't half get on his nerves after a while. Sylvain's jaw dropped just a little bit as he realised just how long and silky Felix's hair was. He wanted to run his fingers through it, to see if it smelt like his shampoo (did Felix use a seperate shampoo, or was he the kind of person to just use that 5 in 1 stuff you can buy from the dollar store?) At the back of his mind, an evil little part of him wanted to dig Felix's hair a tug, just to see what would happen. He then realised he was staring, and his mouth was hanging open, and he was being stared at. 

“I-”

“Close your mouth, before you let the flies in. What were you dreaming about?” Felix rested his chin in his hand, watching Sylvain with eyes that flickered with a mischievous glint that didn't reach anywhere else on his face. If he hadn't have been losing himself in his eyes, Sylvain wouldn't have even noticed it was there. 

“You- nothing. This coffee. How nice it is. How skilled you are in the coffee making artistry.” That made Felix laugh openly, and Sylvain beamed at him over it. Felix's laugh was a wonderful sound, one he could listen to again (and again, and again, and  _ oh god Sylvain,  _ he thought to himself,  _ you're smitten _ .) 

After his shift ended, Felix shoved the apron of offending colour into his bag, leaving the store and shouting a goodbye to Glenn. It was his turn to wipe down and lock up, and Felix wanted to get home today. He'd exchanged numbers and social media profiles with Sylvain as his lunch break had come to an end, and although he didn't want to admit it, he wanted to go home and read through his Facebook profile, to actually see more about the man who was... 'harassing' him with his presence. It wasn't harassment, he enjoyed seeing Sylvain's mop of red hair, but he could tease him by calling it such. As he waited for the bus home, he opened up Facebook on his phone and hit his most recent search. Sylvain Jose Gautier (himbo in red). Felix rolled his eyes at Sylvain's nickname, tapping on his cover photo. It was a photo of Sylvain lounging at a beach, towel over his waist, golden sun bouncing off his... tight abs. Felix backed off the image quickly, just in case anyone peeked over his shoulder and scrolled down. There were a lot of dumb posts shared, stupid jokes about Area 51 (did people really plan on raiding it?), and bad puns, selfies of him smiling next to a horse, and... an album of takeaway coffee cups. He clicked on the album, recognising one of their own cupboard takeaway cups in the images. The album description was simple – there's a cute barista at the local coffee place, and I wanna see how long I can go in and use different names on the cups before he asks my real name. Felix scrolled down, realising all the cups were from their shop, and each one was daubed in his handwriting, with the various stupid names Sylvain given him. Felix remembered it well. The first time he had said something normal, Matthew? And then every time was something else, ranging from more normal things like Robin and David, to at some point trying to convince Felix, and failing, that his name was Lucifer. The most recent cup was one was from a few days again, where Sylvain had tipped him before he wrote the name on the cup, so he just drew a smiley face on it. The caption read awh, he likes me :). The idea of commenting to add some sort of futile denial such as 'I only like you because you tip well' flashed through his mind, but he ruled it out. Let Sylvain have his fun. Just as his bus pulled him, he opened messenger, and shot Sylvain a message. 

**Felix:** I hope your coffee cup collection is purely digital, if you've got a little shrine of them in your house I don't plan on coming round for dinner. Stale coffee isn't a pleasant smell.

Sylvain raised his eyebrow when Felix's chat head popped up on his screen and cringed when he realised Felix could see his collection of cups he'd been stocking up on.

**Sylvain:** oh god no it's not physical. I even recycle ;) I just liked to document the dumb names I asked you to write on the cups. 

**Felix:** As far as I remember, you didn't  _ make _ me write anything. I chose to. 

Sylvain rolled his eyes at Felix's message, cramming half a croissant in his mouth before typing the next message.

**Sylvain:** I guess so. What u doing tonight?

Felix plugged his earphones into his phone and hit shuffle on his usual playlist, pondering Sylvain's message over. What was he doing tonight? He needed to go home and feed his cat, who was probably lounging on the bed right now, or yowling at the door as if he was hiding on the other side of it ignoring her. After that though, he didn't really have any plans. 

**Felix** : No plans. Just need to get home and feed Iris.

**Sylvain:** Iris?

**Felix:** My cat. 

He forwarded a photo from his camera roll of the fluffy cat laying around his shoulders like a scarf, saliva glistening in her mouth from where she was dribbling on him. Iris had a habit of drooling when she purred. Sylvain beamed at the photo and saved it, trying not to focus too much on the demure smile on Felix's face. He'd not seen him smile like that in the shop before. 

**Sylvain:** shes super cute! I dont have a cat but I have a python :) 

**Felix:** Are we good enough friends yet for you to tell me about your dick?

Felix smirked at his phone. He was half hoping Sylvain was on about his penis, because well... Sylvain was a very attractive man. Right up Felix's alley. Broad, smiley, funny, and just that little bit ditzy. Sylvain on the other hand rolled his eyes, also sending a photo from his camera roll.

**Sylvain:** Very funny, pretty boy. His name is Trouser. 

Oh, so it was a real python. Disappointing. He rung the bell for his stop and stepped out into the rain, half jogging across the road and fumbling with his keys to unlock the door to his building. In the time it took him to get in and up to his apartment's door, Sylvain had sent him another few messages. 

**Sylvain:** oh no you arent scared of snakes are you and ive freaked you out?

**Sylvain:** urgh dammit

**Sylvain:** btw I have tickets to a show tonight if you wanna go, thats why I asked if you were free. Ofc if the snake thing put you off I understand. I should have asked first about sending a pic, hes not everyones cup of tea. 

Felix laughed out loud at the sweet worried messages from Sylvain as he scooped Iris up into his arms, planting a kiss between her ears, warranting a happy  _ mrrp _ from her. A show. Felix racked his thoughts to think of the last time he'd gone out to something like a show. When he came up empty he thought of the last time he'd gone out... anywhere that wasn't work, or the gym. He made a face to himself as he flicked the kettle on, replying to Sylvain's message.

**Felix:** No I'm not afraid of snakes, I was just busy for a second. I am free tonight, going to a show sounds fun. Send the the post code and time and I'll be there. :)

He had hesitated from adding the smiley face at the end for a second, but then did it anyway. Felix had been told he was more expressive via text than through word of mouth, and he wanted to make sure he came across the way he wanted to with Sylvain. He wanted him to think they were friends. He shot Glenn a text saying he would probably be out late, so he couldn't do his opening shift tomorrow, but could close up instead, and was rewarded with a single thumbs up back. If Felix was more expressive, Glenn was the polar opposite. Sylvain was shoving things in a bag at his house as he watched Felix's message ping up on his phone screen.

**Sylvain:** sweet! It starts at 7, i'll leave your ticket with the guy on the door under the name felix fraldarius. See you then :* 

Felix rolled his eyes at the kiss emote and threw his phone onto the bed, heading into the bathroom. Better freshen up before whatever this show was. 

Felix checked the map on his phone, then looked back up at the building. Then again. There was no way this was the right place. Sylvain hadn't seriously invited him to a show at strip club had he? Feeling apprehensive, Felix approached the doorman, who was broader than anyone he'd ever seen, shaggy blond hair and an eyepatch just adding to the intimidating bouncer look. He tipped his chin at Felix, a smile tugging his lips.

“Not seen you before. ID?” 

“That would be because I've not been here. I uh, my friend invited me. Sylvain? He said he would leave a ticket for me with the doorman. Felix Fraldarius.” Felix patted his pockets down, pulling out his wallet and flashing his driver's license. The man leant down, one eye squinting in the gloom at his license, and he nodded. A crisp white ticket was produced from his back pocket, and he tore it at the perforated line. 

“Sylvain did indeed. Enjoy.” Felix gave him a curt nod as he pocketed his half of the ticket, slipping through the heavy doors that he assumed were soundproofed into the darkness of the club. What hit him first the heady smell of sex and alcohol melding into one in an assault on the nose. It wasn't a bad smell as such, but strong and intoxicating. There was an overtone of something else as well, something syrupy that hung in the air like a liquid. A bar was pressed up against one wall, surrounded by people jostling to get forward and get a drink. Female bartenders fussed up and down the clamouring people, taking notes with winking smiles and handing back small glasses. In the centre of the room was a large stage with lowly lit lights around the edge, probably so people didn't walk into it, and Felix could just about see the glint of a pole in the centre. Sylvain had invited him to a show at a strip club. The thought made him laugh, the idea of their first outing as friends being well, here. Not that were was anything wrong with strip clubs, he'd been to a few before. Never this one, but still. It wasn't somewhere he could imagine bringing a friend. He found a seat near the front of the stage and pulled his phone out, sending Sylvain a message. 

**Felix:** You had tickets to a strip club performance? Not something I would have assumed someone simply got spares for. I'm in by the way, near the front where it's empty. 

**Felix:** Sylvain?

As Felix got no replies from Sylvain, he felt annoyance build. Had he been set up? Was this Sylvain's idea of a joke? Send him to a strip club alone to what, spend the evening waiting for him to appear?

**Felix:** You know, if you wanted to make a fool out of me I assure you there were easier ways than sending me to a strip club alone. 

Just as he was about to vacate his seat and leave, a booming announcing voice echoed over everyone's head. 

“Ladies, gentlemen, anyone and everyone in between, here at Garreg Mach we proudly present our wonderful Cavalier in Red, Jose!” Felix's brain stopped working for a second. In red? Jose? No, it was a coincidence. It had to be a coincidence. Lights flashed on above the stage, momentarily blinding him, and he squinted until the light level dropped. A man was now stood by the pole, dressed in a flowing red shirt and knee length shorts. As Felix's gaze scanned up the man's body a lump appeared in his throat when he saw the mop of wavy red hair, flying off in whatever direction it decided. Oh god, it wasn't a coincidence. 

Sylvain tipped his head back with a smile, looping an arm around the pole to do a neat spin, just a simple introductory one. 

“Evening loves.” He purred into a microphone that Felix hadn't noticed until then. His voice was the same as in the coffee shop; that  _ evening loves _ could have been him ordering one of his ridiculous drinks. So this was how Sylvain got the extra ticket. Over the next hour of the show Felix was entranced, unable to look away as Sylvain dipped and arched his back, hips rolling against the air, the pole, the floor, legs wrapping around the pole and supporting the entire rest of his body. As he shrugged his shirt of Felix couldn't help but notice the fact his chest was freckled with red glitter, and he pushed a palm against his growing erection. Literally every movement he made was controlled and perfect, every leg or arm extension done with poise and precision that Felix admired. He knew exactly where everyone was looking all the time, and guiding people's gaze with languid waves and points. The songs he was dancing to had lyrics, but Felix couldn't tell what they were, mostly because he could only hear the rushing of blood in his ears, and the throbbing bass beats. By the time the set was over his mouth was bone dry and it felt like all the blood in his body, all ten or so pints of it, was right down in his dick and balls. Sylvain left the stage by blowing a kiss into the crowd. Well, it was meant to be into the crowd, but it was extremely pointed, and Felix knew it was aimed at him. Felix had a sudden realisation and pulled his phone out.

**Felix:** Please... disregard my earlier messages.

In the dressing room behind the stage Sylvain checked his phone, snorting in laughter at the messages Felix had sent him. He could see why Felix had been annoyed before; it did seem rude of him, inviting him some place and then not meeting him outside, but he had been busy stretching and getting ready. He pulled on the shirt he'd worn over here, a tight fitting black tshirt, and wiggled back into his jeans. He was only doing one set tonight, and he planned on drinking with Felix in the bar until closing hours. Of course, if Felix didn't have any other plans. Outside, Felix had wormed his way through the crowd, placed a drinks order, two beers, and leant against the slightly sticky bar, waiting, the beers sitting slightly behind him on his right. Just out of his view.

Felix woke up nursing what felt like a hangover. Except it didn't feel like a hangover. There was no pounding headache, aching through his temples like a bad beat from a song. Nausea curled around in the pit of his stomach like a snake around prey. His head felt as if it was full of cotton wool, fuzzy and blurry, the events of the night previous masked in a haze, and a weight in all his limbs that made even rolling over in bed a monumental task. It was as he rolled over, and he opened his eyes just a little bit, he realised something else that was wrong about this morning. He wasn't in his bedroom. This room was brighter than his own, with two bursting closets of clothes and a few… cow ornaments? Oddly, despite the fact that there were things everywhere in the room, it was still strangely tidy in a way. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, and had to close his eyes, a headache splitting through him. A loud groan left him, his body coiling back up without his consent till his face was pressed down against a pillow that smelt familiar. It wasn't his own bed, but it smelt like someone he knew? 

“You awake in there?” A voice he knew came through the doorway and he tilted his head, opening one eye to see who it was. Sylvain was stood in the doorway, dressed in baggy pyjamas with a dressing gown looped over his arm. “I brought you this. I'm making coffee, I'm assuming you want one?” His voice was different to usual. It lacked it's playful teasing edge, the flirty under tone that made Felix both smile, and want to smack him gone. 

“I would like to know what I'm doing feeling like warmed up death in your bed. This is your bed I'm assuming.” If it wasn't Sylvain bed, there was a whole universe of questions Felix had. 

“It is. Don't get up, I'll bring you the coffee, and then I'll explain everything.” Sylvain turned tail and left the room without another word, and something inside Felix felt uneasy. What had happened? He racked his brain, trying to remember the events of the night before. Going to the club, the one eyed bouncer, watching Sylvain dance. He replayed all of Sylvain's seamless moves in his mind, frowning internally as some of it started to fray near the end. Buying drinks. Waiting. Waiting. Nothing. Blurred images and muffled sounds were all he could conjure up and he cursed himself. He had only bought one beer hadn't he? 

Sylvain came back in and sighed softly at the sight of Felix face down on his bed, dark hair spread over his shoulders. He had wanted Felix in his bed at some point, but not like this. He sat down near his knees, placing a steaming mug of coffee on the bedside unit. Carefully, he ran his fingers through Felix's hair, moving it out of the way of his face. 

“What... what do you remember about last night?” He approached the subject carefully, watching Felix's expression. 

“Nothing after I bought the first beers. I'm assuming there were more beers than just one, because I am not this much of a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, I can promise you that.” He forced himself to roll onto his side, bringing his arm up to shade his eyes. There was still something missing from the puzzle and his brain hurt from trying to figure out what it was. 

“There was only one. I came out, and you had two waiting. We started drinking them, put them down for a moment when a song we both liked came on, and when we came back... someone must have seen me drinking one and slipped something in it. It's one of the things that's not uncommon there, especially when it comes to us dancers. We uh, must have swapped drinks because you then nearly passed out.” Felix moved his hand a little to look at Sylvain, disbelief crossing his face. 

“Someone roofied me, meaning to get you?” Sylvain's nod was grave, and there was something in his eyes Felix wasn't expecting to see. Guilt? “Don't feel guilty.” He huffed at him, grabbing onto his shoulder to pull himself back up to sit beside him. “It wasn't your fault. Is that why you brought me back to your house?” 

“I didn't want you to be alone, and I thought you'd freak out more if you woke up in your own house but I was there too.” He paused to hand Felix the coffee cup so he didn't have to move to reach for it. “Plus I've been there before. It wouldn't have been the first time it's happened, and it probably won't be the last. If I didn't enjoy dancing as much as I do, and make the tips I do, I would give it up.” He draped the dressing gown over Felix's shoulders, talking as he did. “I hope you don't mind I went into your emergency contacts and rung your brother. I said we went to a party, I didn't say where, and explained what happened so he'd given you a few days off work to recover. Trust me, you're going to need them.” He produced a packet of wet wipes and started fussing around Felix's face with it, wiping his cheeks and under his eyes, wiping off stale sweat from the night before and helping him feel fresher and human for the first time since he woke up. Felix couldn't do much more than sip the drink he had in his hands and process the information he'd been given. Someone had tried to drug Sylvain, dosed him instead, and then Sylvain had gone out of his way to make sure Felix was going to be safe and okay. All of that for someone who just made him coffee. 

“I'm buying you dinner in a few days. As a thank you for,” he waved a hand at the room, “all this. For helping me.” Sylvain laughed at him and Felix winced at the loudness of it.

“Don't you dare, I don't need thanks for helping a friend out. I wouldn't say no to a kiss though.” He winked at him, and Felix's smile was lazy and warm. Sylvain's heart pounded just that little quicker at the way Felix's face was just so handsome when he wasn't scowling, or pretending to be a hard-ass. Felix knew he was joking and just ignored him, handing him the cup back to lay back down on his back, staring up at the ceiling. God, what a night. Sylvain laid down beside him, tucking his hands behind his head, head turned to look at Felix. “I meant it, about the kiss.” Felix rolled onto his side, looking into Sylvain's face. 

“Oh really?” He licked his lips softly, eyes travelling down to stare at Sylvain's lips, wondering about what it would feel like to kiss them. They looked soft, warm, and sweet, like fresh sugar. “Come and get it then.”

The kiss wasn't sweet or chaste, but then again last night Felix had seen Sylvain in virtually nothing, dancing around a pole with reckless abandon, but eyes only for Felix, focused only on him. Sylvain took control of the kiss with ease, pinning Felix down, one hand grabbing Felix's hair and tugging it, exposing his neck, ripe for the biting. He didn't bite too high, he didn't want anyone in the shop to see, but anywhere else was fair game. Felix let out a whine, and Sylvain obliged with more, harder, faster, touching everywhere that he could, stripping Felix and then himself down to nothing, skin hot to the touch. 

The morning passed by with gasps and groans, sweat on their both of their bodies mingling into one as they fucked hard and fast, and then slow and soft in the shower once they were trying to get clean. Their lunch dissolved into giggles about the way that Sylvain kind of crossed his eyes when he came, and the way Felix whined  _ Syl-Sylvain _ when Felix hit just the right spot with his dick. Felix poked him across the table, Sylvain poked back, and they ended up having sex on the table, once Sylvain carefully moved the plates out of the way. That was something Felix had learnt about him, he was quite tidy, everything having it's place. 

When Felix went home that evening, they exchanged messages till the early hours of the morning, and Felix fell asleep with a dumb smile on his face, phone clutched in his hand. 

Sylvain didn't need to ask for coffee anymore either; he just showed up at Felix's lunch break and Felix made him something special, which they sat and drank together in a corner, muttering about things that were just so painfully mundane, the weather, the news, what they were doing for dinner, but to them mundane was fine. Mundane was all they needed. 


	2. bleed into me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and Sylvain's relationship progresses and woo there's the soulmate bit

Okay so, maybe mundane wasn't exactly what always was on the agenda. After eight months together, they were both getting ready backstage at Garreg Mach. Felix had taken an interest in pole dancing after watching Sylvain a few more times, and it turned out he was very good at it. Something about doing classical dance training as a child had helped, but Sylvain didn't push his luck and ask any more about his childhood. Felix was always very closed off from it. They had adapted Sylvain's act for the two of them, Felix's hair down during the number so he was less likely to be recognised at that quiet guy from the coffee shop with the stern glare. 

“And now, are you ready to welcome...” the speakers were duller sounding backstage, and Sylvain closed his eyes as Felix sprayed his face lightly with glitter. Sylvain leant down to give Felix a quick peck on the lips before they hurried out, ready for when the lights snapped on. “Sword and Lance, Jose and Hugo!” 

The pulsing beat of the music was already ingrained in Felix's mind and his movements, lithe muscles making easy work of scaling the pole, tipping backwards, releasing one hand to trail down Sylvain's jaw. He couldn't see the audience, but he knew they were shifting in their seats, leaning forward a little. Sylvain's large hands slid down his back, supporting him to flip off the pole, right into Sylvain's arms. A small gasp from the crowd. Sylvain dropped him (stylistically of course) onto a chair on stage, hips rolling in a circle in front of Felix's face. Neither could help touch each other as Sylvain's hands pushed Felix's thighs apart slowly, so slowly. If he tried to do things this slowly when they fucked, Felix would go positively insane. Sylvain's hands were making short work of his shirt buttons by the time he zoned back into the atmosphere, and Felix let the silk fall from him, exposing the dagger tattoo etched down his spine; he took a running leap at the pole, spinning around it again and sinking down to the floor, where he rolled his hips once, twice, three times, hair a mess around his face and over his shoulders. Sylvain sunk to the floor to meet Felix, their lips brushing in a feather light kiss that made the crowd cheer. 

As the lights dimmed, and they left the stage, Felix hadn’t put his shirt back on, and Sylvain felt desire brim in him like an animal.

“Lock the door.” He ordered Felix once they were both in the dressing room, and Felix complied, giving Sylvain a sultry look. That was all Sylvain needed to wrap his arms around him and lift him up, hands under Felix’s ass giving it a squeeze. Felix gasped, legs wrapped tight around Sylvain’s waist so he didn’t need to hold him up. Sylvain already thought that far ahead and was pressing Felix between his chest and the wall, a growl in his throat as they kissed, all tongue and teeth, both already horny from the sexual tension on the stage. Their erections were already pressing against one another, Sylvain’s hands pulling at Felix’s tight shorts and then his own. It was a desperate thing, which it didn’t technically need to be, but they both just needed each other right there and then. There was lube within arm’s reach, which didn’t surprise Felix at all, although he did wonder why it was there. Whatever, it didn’t matter, what did matter was Sylvain’s fingers pushing into his ass, covered in the cold lube; and he groaned, pressing his face into the crook of Sylvain’s neck to stifle what sounds he could, not wanting to be heard fucking at work. Okay, he could be heard fucking at his  _ other  _ job, which would probably be worse, but still. Sylvain was crooning in his ear, sweet nothings like  _ good boy, so good for me, you want me don’t you, want me to fuck you,  _ and Felix was powerless to do anything but nod in response, rocking his hips the best he could against Sylvain’s hand, needing him to fuck him already. It didn’t take much longer for Sylvain to slide his dick into Felix, letting his grip on him slip a little so Felix was virtually impaled on him, and Felix had to bite down hard to suppress a scream.

“God Felix, I never get tired of hearing you when I fuck you.” Sylvain nipped at Felix’s ear lobe, and Felix did nothing but whine, pushing against Sylvain. 

“Stop talking and- fuck me like you mean it.” Oh, a challenge? Felix bit down over Sylvain’s pulse point, hands scrabbling on his back as Sylvain  _ did _ fuck him like he meant it, harder and harder, faster, and Felix lost himself in the moment, there, in that dressing room full of silken flowing shorts and tiny skin tight shorts, of body glitter and eyeliner, where he had never thought he would be but wouldn’t change for the world. He wouldn’t change Sylvain for the world either. His dumb wide grin, the sparkle in his eyes, the way he was so tall and broad but still so graceful, his good-hearted attitude. The way he looked at Felix. Felix had caught him staring before, during breakfast in their boxers, or when he came into the shop and Felix was nearly ready to keel over from being so busy. He saw the way the lights could have formed little hearts in his eyes like a cartoon. Something welled up in his chest, and he choked out three broken words, spotting himself in the mirror to the right, looking fucked out, a complete mess, but  _ happy. _

“Hmm?” Sylvain slowed a little to tip his head back, allowing Felix to lace his hands in Sylvain’s hair, the thick red curls he played with and swirled around his fingers when Sylvain was asleep, when he couldn’t be caught being a softie. 

“I…” He started, but Sylvain hit his prostate and his eyes rolled back, words faltering as he came hard, legs shaking. Sylvain shushed him with a kiss, chasing his own orgasm, which hit hard, and he had to stumble backwards into a chair to stop him from falling and dropping Felix. 

“You what?” 

“Tell you later, let’s get cleaned up now, it’s not that important.”  _ Oh, but it was. _

Felix didn’t forget about saying it; he just chickened out. After they cleaned up with wet wipes, they went home and crashed out on the couch watching a film, Sylvain curled up against Felix’s chest, his warmth and weight comforting. Iris was laying on the small of Sylvain’s back, and Felix was idly petting her, scratching behind her ears as the TV flashed silent commercials for useless products no one should need. Felix stared up at his ceiling, tracing the swirled pattern with his eyes, wondering why anyone would put a pattern on a ceiling. How often do people really pay attention to it? Sylvain shifted a little, not moving too much because of the weight of the cat on him, but it was only brief. Felix wanted to wake him, say those words he had thought of, and let that be that, but he… found himself unable. He couldn’t make himself say it now they weren’t having sex, and that was stupid. It was pathetic almost. You can’t just love someone when you’re having sex with them, and that be it. He grabbed his phone off the arm of the sofa behind him and sent a message to someone, hoping they would still be awake 

**Dimitri: ** Felix? What are you doing awake?

**Felix: ** Hoping that you are. I need to… talk to you. Do not DARE breathe a word of this to anyone, especially Sylvain, you understand me?

**Dimitri: ** Of course. 

**Felix:** I think I love him. 

The three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen, then stopped, and then appeared again, and then stopped. Felix watched them come and go, and worried he was being written a novel, when a message he wasn’t expecting came back.

**Dimitri:** Ok

**Felix: ** Ok?? What do you mean ok?? What am I meant to do about it?

**Dimitri: ** I don’t know, tell him maybe? What is the worst that can happen

**Felix** : He could freak out and leave me????

**Dimitri: ** So you would rather stay with him, not telling him how you really feel, in case he doesn’t feel the same. Rather stay in a relationship with someone who doesn’t love you, than tell him how you feel?

Felix didn’t like the fact Dimitri was right.

**Felix: ** fuck you

**Dimitri: ** I’m right and you know it

**Felix:** That is why I said fuck you

**Felix: ** Thank you. 

**Dimitri: ** Don’t mention it

**Felix:** I don’t plan on it. 

He closed the messenger and let out a heavy sigh, heavy enough with Sylvain stirred with a quiet  _ mrr? _ noise, nuzzing his face closer into Felix’s chest.

“That was a heavy sigh, Fe,” Sylvain’s voice was thick with sleep, and Felix felt a pang of guilt for waking him up. “Som’thin’ botherin’ you?” Felix shook his head, then realise Sylvain wasn’t looking at him.

“No, no I just… I wanted to tell you what I said earlier. That’s all.”

“I’m all ears.” Sylvain nestled down a bit more, getting comfy again. Obviously they were going to be spending the night on the sofa. 

“I… I love you.”

Before he knew what was happening, Sylvain was up, leaving Felix cold from the sudden lack of human radiator draped across his chest, cat hissing at the disturbance, and his front door slammed shut, an icy breeze being whisked in. Sylvain was gone.

Sylvain breath was shaking, as were his hands, as he half ran down the corridor away from Felix’s front door, three words echoing around his head.  _ I love you, I love you, I love you,  _ no, no Felix wasn’t allowed to love him. No one was, he wasn’t worthy of it. He slammed the button on the elevator, cursing as it didn’t seem to be working. Everything was going fucking wrong tonight wasn’t it. He checked his phone, 3% battery. His knuckles met the concrete wall before he set off down the stairs, needing to put as much distance between him and Felix as he could. 

Back home, now in his bed, blanket draped around his shoulder, Felix sent Sylvain a message.

**Felix: ** I’m sorry?

**Felix: ** Please don’t ignore me Sylvain

**Felix:** If you keep ignoring me this is over Sylvain

**Felix: ** Fine then. That’s that is it? God you’re an ass

It was three days before Sylvain showed up at the coffee shop again, and it wasn’t Felix behind the counter. Glenn was taller than Felix, and just a little broader, but the family genes were strong. Luckily it was relatively empty in there, because the second Glenn laid eyes on Sylvain, his face turned to stone. 

“You dare show your face in here.” Sylvain held both hands up, palms out in surrender.

“I know, I know, I fucked up, I royally fucked up, but I came to explain. I can’t message him, he blocked me on everything-”

“For good reason, might I add.”

“Yes, for good reason, I’m not denying that. I was a supreme jerk, but I  _ need  _ to speak to Felix. Please. Give me this one chance. I don’t deserve it, I know, but please.” He stood, giving Glenn a staredown. Neither of them wavered, and Glenn could see the determination in Sylvain’s eyes.

“He’s at home. He needed bread, he texted me asking me to take him some. I’m assuming you remember the kind he has? Showing up with a peace offering will get you further.” Sylvain nodded, throwing some money onto the counter as he left. 

“Buy yourself a drink as a thank you on your lunch.” Glenn just rolled his eyes, but he did pocket the change. 

Sylvain knocked on Felix’s door. Well, it was more of a bump, and with an elbow, but it was still technically a knock. He had a few bags of groceries in his hands, deciding if Felix needed Glenn to bring him bread, he would need more than just that.

“Door’s open Glenn.” He heard Felix call, and he debated just walking in. 

“It isn’t Glenn.” The door swung open and oh. Felix’s hair didn’t look like it had been washed in days (it hadn’t) and he was wearing a sleeveless turtleneck, tight back trousers that were probably of the yoga variety, and he had a white towel draped around his neck. Right, he had that gym equipment in his spare room. Felix had spent nearly all of his time on the treadmill since Sylvain left, making his muscles scream in pain but he didn’t care, anything to forget the fact he essentially chased Sylvain from his home but opening his stupid mouth. 

“I don’t want you- groceries?”

“Glenn said you needed bread… I went overboard.” That was the truth. “Felix please, I… let me explain. Let me in, and let me explain. If my explanation isn’t good enough I’ll leave, and I won’t come back I swear, but give me a chance.” Felix turned around and walked back into the apartment, but he left the door open, a signal for Sylvain to come in. 

“If you don’t explain well enough, I’m going to punch you, and  _ then  _ you aren’t going to come back.” Felix pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge,  _ bottom shelf, right at the back on the left,  _ Sylvain recounted. He knew Felix and his mannerisms like the back of his hand. 

“Agreed. Now, okay.” He took in a deep breath. “My brother, I know I haven’t mentioned him before, but I had a brother. Have? A brother. He’s dead. He died. Anyway. He told me stories, stories of people who can… see words as colour. But they can only do it when they meet their soulmate, right? He said I had the ‘mark’ of someone who could do it.” Felix was watching Sylvain over the rim of the water bottle, not speaking, but taking in his words. “He said it wasn’t fair that I had it, when I had everything else.” He hadn’t really, but according to Miklan he did. Miklan had been adopted by their parents, because the Gautier’s had been told they would never conceive. When Miklan was five, they did. Sylvain instantly became the favourite, and Miklan had never forgiven him for being born. “I’ve never seen those sort of colours or shit before, I just assumed he was pulling my leg y’know? Like, people could talk to me and nothing like what he described happened so I just assumed he was making it up. Making fun of my stupid birthmark. You’re seen it, the one on my collar bone that’s shaped like some weird crest? Yeah, the one I told you was a white ink tattoo because I didn’t know how to explain my weird brother told me it was a soul mark,” Felix nodded curtly. “well when you said… when you said I love you, I swear, I’ve never seen anything like it.” That made Felix stop dead, breath hovering in his lungs, swirling like smoke. “It was like someone threw a bucket of paint over my eyes and it was glorious. But I panicked, because I’m an idiot. I panicked, because I wasn’t sure what the fuck was going on, and all my life I’ve had to unlearn what Mik told me, because of all the shit things he tried to instill in me, and then something he said was true and what if  _ all  _ of it was true.” Felix cut him off by raising a hand, and he stopped his babbling speech. He needed Felix to believe him. He was telling the truth, and yet it sounded like a lie, and he needed Felix to  _ believe him,  _ that he needed to hear Felix say it again, and again, and again. He wanted to see that maelstrom of colours glittering and making the world into something ethereal.

“Your… mark. Looks like this one right?” Felix held up his left hand. On the back of it, so very pale, pale enough he could only just about see it, Sylvain could see a crest. How had he- “I didn’t have it until you left.” Oh. Sylvain crossed the room in only a few strides - adding an extra few to step around a very pissed off Iris who still hadn’t forgiven him for disturbing her the other night - and he took Felix’s hand. The crest on Felix’s hand lit up, a blue light and they both gasped. 

“Felix I…” Sylvain started, but Felix was kissing him before he could finish, the words being lost in the kiss.  _ Love you. I love you.  _ Felix opened his eyes a fraction and had to take a step backwards, not believing his eyes. Sylvain in front of him was a whirlwind of colour, thick chunky stripes of red and gold mingling with a thousand blues, his freckles silver like stars across a sunset sky, and his smile shone the brightest colour, a golden yellow like the sun, emanating the same warmth that the sun did as well. He was all the colours in one, shining at full brightness, each colour so perfect for him. The red for his anger at things he couldn’t control, but also red for the passion he had for the things he loved, the dancing, sex,  _ Felix. _ Orange a fiery heat of his hair, yellow both his sunny disposition but the cowardice Felix knew he buried away. Green for envy, the jealousy that provoked his possessiveness, that made him bite Felix over and Felix, that made him say  _ mine  _ over and over again. The blues were both his coolness and his sadness, the swilling of ocean waves lapping at the shores to the rain that fell when he cried at night over nightmares he wouldn’t recount when awake. The purple was the bruises from dancing, and the purple that Felix’s fingertips left as he held Sylvain, calling his name. The royal regal purple of Sylvain’s poise and grace, the way he could be a prince with the way he carried himself at times.He reached a hand out for Sylvain, startled at the sight of a red line appearing between them, flying from Felix’s hand like a ribbon and circling Sylvain’s wrist, pulling taut, tying them together with knots and bows, twisting around and around until there was no feasible way it could be undone. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished in a pop of red sparkles like a firework, red glitter sprinkling on Felix’s floor, just like the glitter that had adorned Sylvain’s chest when Felix first saw him dance.

As for Felix, Sylvain couldn’t take his eyes off the metallic silver that snaked around him, pulsing with each breath. Sylvain couldn’t see the gold that mimicked it for him. They were gold and silver, the sun and moon, fated and perfect, fitting each other perfectly like two sides of a coin, the heads to the other’s tails. Sylvain could think of so many things he wanted to say in that moment; in time, he would say them. He would tell Felix he was the light to his dark, the black to his white, the left to his right. He would swoop him into his arms and tell him he was the wind beneath his wings, the heat on his skin, the sweat on his brow, and the life in his heart that shot down to every nerve in his body, lighting him on the most exquisite fire. He had so much time to say all of this though, and in the moment he just focused on kissing Felix, again and again, letting their colours bleed together, both their tears catalysts for the watercolour portrait that was them. 

_ Colour is my day-long obsession, joy and torment - Claude Monet _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same as always, please feed the starving writer with comments and kudos! Find me on twitter @nothinggoeshere

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my amazing beta Cha from the Sylvix Squad discord! Please feed the starving writer comments and kudos ;w;   
Find me on twitter @nothinggoeshere


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